


Get Kim Namjoon: (Three Steps To Getting The Man Of Your Dreams by Park Jimin)

by lulublue1234



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Aggressive Jimin Trying to Get His Crush To Notice Him, Clumsy Namjoon, Crush, Humor, Love, M/M, Stalking, Yes That Last Thing Is A Tag, possible sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5853430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulublue1234/pseuds/lulublue1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimin has a crush on a sometimes pink sometimes blonde haired, uncoordinated barista, with a voice as smooth as honey and dimples as deep as the ocean floor. The man doesn't notice him (which is weird because he's Park freaking Jimin, loved by all) but Jimin's not worried he'll get what he wants -- he always does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preview

This may have had a hand to play in the writing of this story... Why is Park Jimin so squishy and cute?

 

*************

 

“This is not normal, and I'm pretty confident it's also frowned upon by law enforcement,” Jungkook says under his breath to his best friend.

 

The two are currently crouched behind a fake plant in the Coex Mall spying on a cute barista, who is much too uncoordinated (in Jungkook’s humble opinion) for this particular job. In the twenty minutes that Jungkook has been held hostage by Jimin’s stupid infatuation, the blondish-pink-haired man has spilled more coffee than he’s actually served. And had to be placed on cup stacking duty after he somehow managed to cause milk to explode from the steamer like a high school science project gone horribly wrong. Although, Jungkook won’t lie he wouldn’t mind a repeat performance of that show, the way all the employees converged on the blonde like firefighters putting out a blazing inferno was like a scene from an action movie. The only thing that could have made the experience better was if he'd had popcorn, soda, and a comfy couch from which to watch the drama unfold.

 

“What? This is very normal,” Jimin says as he slaps at Jungkook’s hand when the other tries to pull him away.

 

“Sooo... what you’re saying is -- that you think, hiding behind a fake plant so a guy who’s never even spoken to you, won’t see you as you stalk him at his place of employment, is NORMAL?” Jungkook asks eyebrows arched questioningly.

 

“Uhmmm, yes?” Jimin answers with an embarrassed laugh. “Plus he has spoken to me, he said excuse me once in the hallway,” Jimin answers cheerily, then sighs. “This is stupid isn’t it?”

 

Jungkook nods his definitive agreement to the statement.

 

“Why are you even doing this? You’re Park Jimin for fucks sake, loved and wanted by most of the student body. Just walk in there and ask for his number, if he has a good health plan -- cause he needs one, or how he likes to be sucked off, anything. Because this,” Jungkook waves his hand for effect, “this hiding behind a bush like a twelve-year-old girl is embarrassing and just plain weird.”


	2. STEP ONE: DATA GATHERING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's love at first sight (okay maybe lust) when Jimin notices Namjoon.  
> In which Jimin makes a plan to capture Namjoon and Jungkook is the best wingman ever!

****WARNING FOR LANGUAGE****

“Stand still will ya?” Jimin is holding Jungkook by the back of his shirt trying to keep the younger man from exposing their hiding spot. This is the best view he’s had of his crush all week and he’s not about to let his bratty best friend mess it up.

 

“This is _not_ normal,” Jungkook says to Jimin, “and it’s bordering on illegal.”

 

The two crouch behind a fake plant in the Coex Mall spying on the cute barista, who is much too uncoordinated (in Jungkook’s humble opinion) to be doing this particular job. In the twenty minutes that Jungkook has been held hostage by Jimin’s stupid infatuation, the barista (blondish sort of pink hair, too tall for the counter he had been given, surprisingly handsome in an odd sort of way) has spilled more coffee than he’s actually served, and had to be placed on cup stacking duty after he somehow managed to cause milk to explode from the steamer like a high school science project gone horribly wrong. Jungkook won’t lie: he wouldn’t mind a repeat performance of that particular show, the way all the employees converged on the troublemaker in their midst like firefighters in an action movie, rushing to put out a blazing inferno. The only thing that could have made the experience better was if he had popcorn, soda, and a comfy couch from which to watch the drama unfold.

 

“What,” Jimin says, slapping at Jungkook’s hand when the other tries to pull away, “this is very normal!”

 

Jungkook arches his eyebrows questioningly. “Sooo, what you’re saying is that you think that hiding behind a fake plant, so a guy who’s never even spoken to you won’t see you as you stalk him at his place of employment... is NORMAL?”

 

“Uhmmm, yes?” Jimin laughs, having the decency to sound at least a little embarrassed. “Plus he has spoken to me, he said excuse me once in the hallway,” Jimin answers cheerily, then sighs. “This is stupid, isn’t it?”

 

Jungkook nods his definitive agreement.

 

“Why are you even doing this? You’re Park Jimin for fucks sake, loved and wanted by most of the student body, just walk in there and ask for his number, if he has a good health plan, how he likes to be sucked off… anything. Because this,” Jungkook waves his hand for effect, “this hiding behind a bush like a twelve-year-old girl is weird and just plain embarrassing.”

 

Jimin’s shoulders sag a bit. He’d finally hit rock bottom. Jungkook was right, this wasn’t him at all. He didn’t hide behind fake foliage, and he definitely _didn’t stalk_. He was normally the one being pursued, the one people tripped over themselves to meet... but something, something about the ungainly blonde makes Jimin’s heart race. Has a goofy smile spreading across his face whenever they’re within fifty feet of each other. Jimin’s mind drifts a bit as he remembers how it all began.

 

************************

 

Six months ago Jimin’s Dance 102 professor suggested that those in the class who were serious about having a future in dance should consider enrolling in a music theory class. “To really feel the music and bring it to life with dance,” the teacher had said, “shouldn’t you, at least, understand its origin?”

 

Jimin had sat on the edge of his seat, listening with bated breath and soaking up every word that fell from his professor’s lips while nodding his head like a bobblehead on a dashboard. He isn’t serious about much: his laid back personality and fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants lifestyle made sure of that. But dance... dance is the one thing that Jimin does not joke about. And it was that – his love for dance - that had led to his life being one step away from becoming an episode of ' _My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend_.'

 

That day after class Jimin found himself in the registrar's office adding one more thing to his already-too-packed schedule, but if learning about music meant he was one step closer to becoming a professional dancer and seeing his name in lights, then Jimin was ready to make the sacrifice.

 

The morning his world turned upside down Jimin was sitting at the front of the class in the desk closest to the door – _at way-too-early-fucking-o’clock_ in the morning waiting for his professor to come and _start the damn class already_.

 

Jimin’s eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep (and possibly too much beer), and he had a slight headache, and is now questioning why he’d thought a beer pong party the night prior to a class that started before the sun was a good idea. The he remembers… _Ahhh, Jungkook, it’s all because of fucking Jungkook_.

 

Jimin was contemplating his irrational choice of a 7 am class when the door _finally_ opened and he expected to see his teacher, an older man with glasses and a stern face, walking through the door. But instead he was greeted by a tall blonde with thick full lips and brown eyes so dark and deep Jimin feels like he could lose himself, and he realizes Taehyung was right. There was such a thing as love at first sight. (To be fair, Taehyung had been talking about a puppy at the time. But what the hell love is love.)

 

************************

 

The memory is Jimin’s favorite. It’s the stuff all great love stories are made of, chance happenings, twists of fate, serendipity (whatever you want to call it) and he can’t wait to someday tell his grandkids about how it all began. (You know assuming they end up together and Namjoon doesn’t kill himself in some freak coffee accident).

 

Jimin takes one last look at Namjoon, just in time to see the cups he had so neatly stacked only moments before fall to the ground - like a Jenga tower after pulling the wrong piece. Jimin smiles, he can’t help it. Namjoon is an anomaly: his gangly ostrich-like movements in direct contrast to the way the he spits out lines like a fucking Shakespearian poet in class, or the way he owns the stage like Nas in the underground rap scene.

 

“I’m not sure why,” Jimin says “There’s something about him that makes me feel so insecure.”

 

“Seriously, the man is a walking disaster zone. How the fuck does he make you feel insecure, he just blew up a coffee machine for crying out loud!”

 

Jimin laughs, “One day, when someone walks into your life and sucks all the logic out of it, then you’ll get it. Right now even if I tried to explain you wouldn’t understand.” He pats his friend on the back and turns to walk away.

 

Jimin couldn’t explain his behavior to Jungkook even if he wanted to because he has no idea himself what’s going on. Namjoon is a spider and Jimin is a tiny fly trapped in the man’s very uncoordinated web. However, instead of fighting for freedom, Jimin-spider is begging to be noticed.

 

“Wait! We’re leaving? Hallelujah!” Jungkook pumps his fist victoriously.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes. “But you make a good point, it’s been six months and he hasn’t once looked in my direction. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive. Maybe he’s not into guys. Although... he hangs out with Lee Sungyeol a lot and he’s gayer than gay.”

 

“Or maybe he doesn’t know you exist because you do shit like this,” Jungkook deadpans. “How’s he supposed to notice you if all you do is hide from him? He’s too clumsy to find you, hyung, and I am confident he’d break something if he tried. So maybe you should help him out and make your presence known.”

 

Jungkook’s words have Jimin stopping in his tracks. _Well fuck - why didn’t I think of that?_ He turns to his friend and a dazzling smile makes its way across his face.

 

“Kookie-ah, you’re a genius!” Jimin claps his hands. “You’re absolutely right. If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s grab someone’s attention -- Namjoon won’t know what hit him.”

 

A mischievous smile plays across Jimin’s face and suddenly Jungkook fears for Namjoon’s safety. Because while the older man is destructive, Jimin on his game is absolutely deadly. Jungkook smiles an evil smile of his own - _this is gonna be fucking amazing._

Thus begins Project Get Kim Namjoon. Jimin has given up stalking for surveillance (which is really just stalking with a purpose) _because you need to know your prey_ , he had explained to a very disgruntled Jungkook the week prior when at three in the morning they sat in Jimin’s older brother’s car, ducked down waiting for Namjoon. The rapper was finishing up an impromptu underground battle, which the awkward, gangly barista had won much to Jungkook’s surprise.

 

Jimin’s plan - equipped with flow charts, weather pattern changes (because, you know, humidity affects your hair), and bubble tea breaks - is three-fold:

Step One - Data gathering

Step Two – Infiltration

Step Three – Hostile Takeover

 

And by hostile Jimin means rough, hungry, dirty sex that leaves them both panting and bone tired (what, that’s hostile). Just thinking about step three has a gigantic grin taking over his face; Namjoon is tall and lean and Jimin has had more than one dream about mapping the muscles on his chest with his tongue.

 

“Why do you have that creepy smile on your face?” Jungkook asks. They’re sitting on the floor in the school’s dance studio trying to recover from a three-hour long practice.

 

“No reason at all.” He’s not about to divulge his x-rated thoughts to Jungkook, of all people. He learned his lesson in the eighth grade when he decided he needed to become a better kisser (you know, just in case) and Jungkook tweeted a picture of him practicing on his teddy bear to the entire student body.

 

Jungkook eyes him suspiciously but says nothing and Jimin is thankful, because a prying, nosy Jungkook is the last thing needs.

 

“So, how’s project ‘Get Kim Namjoon’ going?’ Gathered enough intel yet? Because I am so curious to see how infiltration happens.”

 

Jimin smiles. He’d wondered the same thing, until he learned – quite by accident - that he had an ace in the hole.

 

“Hoseok hyung,” Jimin says out of the blue. The look of confusion on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin fist pump internally - he’s usually the one with that look, and it’s usually Jungkook who gives it to him.

 

“What about him?”

 

“He’s my key to unlocking the door to step two,” Jimin says, perhaps a little too excitedly.

 

“Uhmm, how?”

 

“So a couple days ago while gathering data, I followed Namjoon to the noraebang across from campus, and – OH MY GOD his singing voice is just as beautiful as his rapping voice. It’s deep and rich, and --”

 

“And what does this have to do with Hoseok hyung?” Jungkook cuts Jimin off.

 

“Right.” Jimin pouts a bit. “That’s who Namjoon met up with, Hoseok hyung. Well, hyung, and that short, cranky guy with the green hair that always looks like he wants to sleep and bitch-slap someone at the same time.”

 

“And?”

 

“And they’re friends. Really, really good friends. And hyung is our friend too. So…” Jimin pauses when the door to the practice room suddenly swings open, banging the wall hard enough to cause the only picture in the room to fall to the floor with an ear-shattering crash.

 

“What the actual fuck!” Jungkook exclaims in shock.

 

But it’s Jimin who is left dumbfounded when a deep voice replies back.

 

“Shit, sorry.”

_Namjoon._

_It’s fucking Kim Namjoon._

_Say something._

_Anything._

 

Jimin’s mouth does NOT obey his brain.

 

However, when Namjoon’s eyes land on him (brows knitted quizzically) and states, “You look familiar, do I know you?” Jimin nearly trips over his own feet as he grabs his backpack, shoes, and Jungkook’s hand and darts out the room at the speed of light, like a short Korean version of The Flash.

 

_Fuck!_

_Fuck!_

_Fuck!_

 

When they are back in their dorm room - a safe distance away from Namjoon and his dimples and his quizzical gaze (that can bore holes into your soul) and his stupid fucking syrup smooth voice – Jimin _finally_ exhales.

 

“Uhmmm, not to throw stones at your well-constructed glass house, or anything... but what you just did, just now, could be defined as the opposite of infiltrate.”

 

“Shut up.” Jimin pushes Jungkook out of the way to walk to his room.

 

 _What the fuck just happened_ , he had an opportunity, a chance – this was what he had been gathering information for. Namjoon came to him, walked into his world, said he knew him (okay said he looked familiar, but it’s basically the same), the rapper’s full lips conjured up words directed at him, Park Jimin. Words colored in a deep rich baritone the sound reminded Jimin’s of molten chocolate dripping down the side of a cup, hot, sweet, and sticky.

 

_And what did I do? I ran, I fucking ran away. Damn it Jimin._

 

He flops on his bed hard, like a beached whale knocking up against the shore.

 

“Idiot, idiot, idiot,” he groans into his pillow.

 

He doesn’t answer the knock at the door, he knows who it is.

 

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asks as he crosses the threshold (Jimin’s answer wouldn’t have changed his actions).

 

Jimin expected this, Taehyung’s arrival. Jungkook was his wingman, his surveillance partner, he was the friend Jimin could punch and kick and scream swear words at when he was angry or needed to vent. Jungkook was NOT the friend Jimin called when he needed to a hug, when he needed to snuggle and get lost in someone else’s warmth, or when he needed to cry on someone’s shoulder. According to Jungkook, “girly shit like that goes against the bro-code,” (whatever the hell that is). But Jungkook was not all rough-manly-man-with-no-heart, he knew what Jimin needed, hence Taehyung standing in the middle of his bedroom looking at him carefully.

 

“Jungkook said - and I quote, ‘Jimin’s all weird and emotional and shit, and I think he needs a hug or a tissue or something, can you come?’” Jimin won’t lie: Taehyung’s impersonation of Jungkook was spot on. “Do you need a hug before we talk?”

 

Jimin nods.

 

As he sinks into Taehyung’s arms he realizes that the slightly younger man is the best discovery he and Jungkook made in college second only to frat parties and fake IDs. The tall, thin man with the kind yet mischievous eyes is an anomaly straddling the line between ridiculous and genius with precision and ease, so much so Jungkook and Jimin often found themselves wondering if he’s an alien from another planet.

 

They’d happened upon him on the second day of registration. Jungkook needed an elective, _“Something to balance out the boring of Business Concepts.”_ Taehyung was unmissable for two reasons, 1) his hair was lavender and it made him look oddly surreal, like a picture or a piece of live art, and 2) he was engaged in a very dramatic monologue (Taehyung states dialogue) with the class registration list. (According to Taehyung the paper was baiting him and needed to be put in its place.)

 

With Taehyung’s warmth engulfing him, Jimin thinks maybe frat parties and fake IDs are now things that are second to Taehyung.

 

“Feeling better?” Taehyung breath on the base of his neck tickles but feels so comforting Jimin doesn’t mind.

 

“Mmm.” His voice muffled against Taehyung’s neck.

 

“Ready to talk?”

 

“Mmm.” He wasn’t, not really, but saying no to Taehyung was a fruitless war, one that Jimin did not have the mental energy to engage in.

 

“I-I just – there’s this person I sorta...” He sighs and Taehyung pats him on the back encouragingly. “There’s this person I’m interested in, and I’ve been, you know, trying to get their attention. So I made a plan and it’s good, the plan, and it was going great. I was just about through with step one and getting ready to start step two, when…”

 

“... When?”

 

“When today out of nowhere that person walked into the practice room and talked to me.”

 

He can’t continue, it’s just too embarrassing. Taehyung is new, he’s not seasoned like Jungkook to all of Jimin’s idiosyncrasies. Taehyung may not be aware that Jimin’s sexy swagger is merely a front, and that deep down he is still the same insecure teenager that grew up two doors down from Jungkook. Taehyung probably doesn’t know that Jungkook has been the one to fight most of Jimin’s battles, Taehyung is definitely unaware of the millions and billions of things that Jimin hides behind his moon crescent smile.

 

He sneaks a peek at Taehyung from the corner of his eyes, it’s difficult to see with his head still buried in Taehyung’s neck so he leans forward, and sits up, he’s good now, the hug had accomplished its purpose. Now he can look directly into Taehyung’s eyes, now he can see if he should continue talking. When his eyes meet Taehyung’s he knows, yes, yes he should. There’s no judgment, no _you’re a boy why are you so whiny_ , no _geesh grow a pair will ya_ – all Jimin sees is warmth and acceptance shining back at him, that and the question, _so what happened next?_

 

“I was so shocked cause the person said I looked familiar, and my brain stopped, it just stopped – like I couldn’t form sentences, and words, words what are those? Like that was what was happening to me. So…” he exhales, “so, I grabbed my stuff and Jungkook and bolted.”

 

Taehyung’s eyes slowly widen as though his brain is processing Jimin’s statement piece by piece. “Wait, so you ran away? Like with your feet and stuff? Like out the room and down the hall and around the corner, away?”

 

“Uhmm, yeah. Away, away.”

 

“Wow.”

 

They sit in silence for a moment, Jimin anxiously waiting for what will come out of Taehyung’s mouth next. He’s not sure if what he’s about to hear will be brilliance or something else entirely. Jimin had learned through trial and error that one can never know what they’ll end up with in the way of advice from Taehyung. It’s a crap shoot for sure, but at least it’s never boring.

 

There was the time Jimin asked Taehyung if he wanted a bear hug, and the man with the most serious expression on his face replied, _“real bear hugs are often fatal!”_ and walked away shaking his head as though Jimin was the crazy one. And the time Jungkook was complaining about his looks and the Taehyung told him with a straight face and a sweet voice, _“Don’t think of yourself as an ugly person. Think of yourself as a beautiful monkey.”_ His boxy-smile was so earth-shatteringly bright that neither he or Jungkook had the heart to tell Tae that monkeys weren’t beautiful.

 

When the advice turns out to be a question, Jimin’s a little disappointed.

 

“Who is it? Your person?”

 

“Uhmm.” The other thing that Taehyung doesn’t know about Jimin, because he’s so new, is that Jimin may like boys (especially blonde, sometimes pinked-haired, uncoordinated ones) a wee, tiny, minute bit more than girls. “About that, uhmm, don’t be shocked or grossed out about I’m about to say, okay? I was going to tell you, but you know I wanted you to get more comfortable with us, with me first--”

 

“You mean about you liking guys?” Taehyung cuts him off and Jimin’s mouth drops.

 

“You knew? Wait, is it obvious?”

 

“Not really, but my older brother is bi, although he likes guys more. So it was easy to spot, plus --” Taehyung gets super close and whispers in Jimin’s ear. “I’ve seen the way you look at Jungkook’s chest when he doesn’t have on a shirt.”

 

Taehyung laughs hard when Jimin lets out a horrified gasp. Jimin thought he’d been subtle about it. He wants to ask Taehyung if he thinks Jungkook noticed, but he doesn’t, because – yeah he doesn’t want to know. Jimin can’t add one more, not one more thing to Jeon Jungkook’s _ammunition-to-use-against-Jimin_ list, so no more staring – no more. Not even if sweat looks amazing on Jungkook, like a swimming pool, or creamy ice cream, or a juicy strawberry popsicle on a sweltering summer day, Jimin will not be looking again. Nope, not ever.

 

“Wait, you have a brother?”

 

“Mmm, I think I told you guys once. He’s two years above me. A music major. I look up to him a lot.” Taehyung says with a proud smile, “You know why?”

 

Jimin shakes his head.

 

“My brother is smart, I mean like crazy smart, like I can do complex math equations, and solve brain teasers in my head, smart. My parents wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer, or something equally as boring and mundane. But not Kim Namsmarty-pants, he wanted to be a musician. They told him the only way they’d pay for school was if he did what they wanted. And he respectfully told them to stick where the sun don’t shine. Okay, not really, he just said no. ”

 

“Wow, that’s rough, and a little mean of your parents,” Jimin replies momentarily forgetting his issues.

 

“Nah, not really. It’s not that they don’t support his dream, it’s that they think if he really wants it, he needs to earn it. Tough love or some such nonsense that parents say. Anyway, he works and goes to school in the day, and performs at night.” Taehyung blinks, “Wait we’re so off topic, we were talking about you.”

 

“Naw, I think you brother is super swag for following his dreams, I respect him for that. What’s his name? Pretty sure your parents didn’t choose Namsmarty-pants.”

 

Taehyung laughs, “Naw, but his name is so interchangeable… when he pisses me off, I call him Kim Namdamnit or Kim Namsuckit, the last one normally finds me in a very uncomfortable head-lock – so I use it sparingly.”

 

Jimin chuckles, he can so picture Taehyung getting his butt beaten by his older sibling. However, when Taehyung says his brother's actual name, Jimin’s world comes to a full complete stop.

**A.**

**FULL.**

**COMPLETE.**

**STOP.**

 

_Because what the fuck did he just say?_

 

“W-what?! What’s your brother’s REAL name?”

 

“Namjoon, Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung repeats.

 

The younger boy says the name like it’s average, as though Jimin hasn’t been dreaming about screaming that name in ecstasy every night for the past six months (okay to be fair that’s one more thing Taehyung doesn’t know). Taehyung’s voice is normal, as though he didn’t just say he was related to the most beautiful thing Jimin has laid eyes on since he and Jungkook went that art gallery in the seventh grade and he first saw Van Gogh’s “Starry Night.” The name Kim Namjoon should be said with reverence and respect, like the national treasure he is.

 

“Kim Namjoon? As in Music Theory, Kim Namjoon? As in barista, who blows up coffee machines, Kim Namjoon? As in underground rapper who spits lyrics like the fucking Zeus of word of play, KIM NAMJOON? He’s your older brother?” Jimin’s standing practically screaming at a very confused, yet amused Kim Taehyung.

 

“Yup, he is.”

 

“That is fucking awesome! I knew this was going to be fucking amazing!”

 

Both Jimin and Taehyung turn toward the speaker, Jungkook, standing in the doorway clapping his hand with impish glee.

 

Jimin’s mind is running away with him, like an airplane without a pilot.

 

_Holy fuck fuckery Batman, this can’t really be happening._

 

Jimin turns, smiles, and throws his arms around Taehyung in a bear hug that left the younger man only slightly injured.

 

“Taehyung do you know what this means?!” Jimin voice is too loud, “Do you, do you, do you?!”

 

“Uhmm… you like --,” Taehyung is about to say music theory, coffee, and rapping -- when the obvious smacks him in the face like a kid getting pelted in a snowball fight. “Holy shit! It’s Namjoon! Your person is Namfuckingjoon. You’re crushing like an obsessed fangirl on my big brother!”

 

And just like that step two -- infiltration, is back on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a three-parter and fair warning updates will be slow. I don't want to rush. I really want to give you all a quality story. I really have enjoyed the writing process of this story so much. Let me know what you think in the comment section, you also can kudos or follow me on twitter @lsgrlr or on Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lulublu1014. If none of these options are good for you I accept gifts in the form of sugakookies and monsters who rap. -_


	3. STEP TWO: INFILTRATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **FIXED TEXT PICTURES**  
> A03 and I had a knockdown-dragout battle with me trying to add the text boxes. BUT I WAS VICTORIOUS!!!!  
> (due to my co-owned niece's genius)  
> Lolololol  
> Jimin and Namjoon, let's just say, awkward does not even cover those two. While Jungkook and Taehyung are the evilest, best friends ever (yet so awesome).
> 
> All text convos are based on real life. A big thank you to Bazooka, Shan, Ari, and Alina for continuing the friendship knowing this may (probably will) happen.
> 
> Reviewers have deemed this chapter fit for human consumption. 
> 
> Thanks to Heera (beta extraordinaire), Alina (my co-owned family and English Nazi), and Megan (my new found friend) for making my English readable (you guys should send them flowers or chocolate).

Jimin’s not quite conscious - he’s in that place between sleep and awake, that place where you’re distinctly aware that you’re dreaming. Standing at the threshold, by the entrance of Dreamland, he’s about to walk through the door -

 

Buzz

 

Buzz

 

Buzz

 

He swings his arms around, swatting at the air and trying to bat away the bee that seems to have taken up residence near his ear. He lets out a loud groan when the buzzing seems to also cause his pillow to vibrate.

 

“Stop,” Jimin whines.

 

The buzzing continues despite his protests, and he cracks open an eye in hopes of finding the offensive bug, ready to carry out an egregious assassination of the insect’s life. When the dim light from underneath his pillowcase hits his eyes, it takes a few seconds for Jimin’s brain to realize what’s going on. He slides his hand inside the pillowcase and pulls his phone out. The envelope icon flashes frantically, announcing to the dark room that someone desperately wants to chat with him. Jimin doesn’t bother to look at the name, knowing who it is already he swipes a finger along the screen.

 

 Normally, Jimin would be laughing his ass off (and possibly singing along despite the typos) at the texternade (text serenade, word courtesy of Taehyung, of course), especially when it’s _Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody_. Except it’s four in the morning and Jimin’s only managed to get two hours of sleep after a nearly seven-hour practice/rehearsal for his dance midterm. _He’s not fucking awake enough for Taehyung’s antics_.

 

The reply has Jimin throwing his phone on the bed in frustration, rolling over in a huff and pulling the pillow over his head. The plan: ignore Taehyung till he gets bored and stops his too-fucking-early-in-the-morning text onslaught. The continued buzzing and slight vibrations he feels remind him that (no matter how much wishes for it right now), Taehyung does not play by “normal” rules. The messages come in quick succession, one after the other, and Jimin wonders if Taehyung is actually a vampire (because seriously, that would explain so _much_ ).

 

_Seriously Taehyung, the entire song? How the fuck do you even know all the words?_

 

 

Jimin holds in a snicker. The messages continue like a steady stream flowing into an ocean.

 

Jimin doesn’t want to give in and he most certainly does not want to smile, because it is now almost five in the morning and he should be sleeping, not reading the incoherent ramblings of his (clearly disturbed) friend (no matter how good the musical selection). He holds the phone in his hand, waiting for a new round of text assaults and when after ten minutes nothing comes through, Jimin thinks maybe his plan has succeeded. He drops the cell beside his head on the pillow and snuggles into the downy softness. Two minutes and almost asleep later, the phone buzzes again and Jimin picks it up ready to give Taehyung a piece of his mind (a very small piece, he’s tired). He swipes his finger to unlock the screen; tiredness disappearing along with the cobwebs that were clouding his sleep-deficient mind once he reads Taehyung’s message.

 

Jimin hits the call button so hard his phone falls out of his hands and slides under the bed, he reaches out hoping to catch the gadget but isn’t quick enough. When he nearly falls off the mattress in his efforts to reunite with his phone, he begins to wonder if maybe Taehyung is a genius, _because why haven’t bed makers planned for a scenario such as this?_ He finally retrieves his cell phone from the place where things go to be lost forever (his favorite hello kitty pen rolled under there last month never to be seen again) and dials Taehyung’s number. It rings with no answer, then goes to voicemail, resulting in Jimin nearly passing out from anxiety.

 

Taehyung’s his doorway, his portal to the world of Kim Namjoon, and Jimin curses himself for his silence and for not replying to Taehyung’s nonsensical late night/early morning texts. If this door closes, he loses his chance at infiltration. Jimin dials Taehyung’s number again, pacing around his room, his sleepy brain in a near panic.

 

“Relax, worry wart. I’m just messing with you.” Taehyung answers his phone in the middle of hysterical laughter.

 

“You’re an ass, you know that right?” Jimin replies harshly, relief flooding his core.

 

“Sorry, the song was stuck in my head, I needed to share,” Taehyung states as though his actions would now make perfect sense. Jimin smiles to himself, Taehyung may be strange, but he most definitely is never boring.

 

“So, uhm… you said, that, uhmm,” Jimin is flustered by just the thought of being somewhere that Namjoon is, somewhere Namjoon lives, and _why the hell can’t he bring it back up? Taehyung was the one that suggested it._

 

“Are you asking about hanging out at my brother’s apartment? Man, you got it bad, don’t you? If you can’t even talk about him, how’re you gonna talk _to_ him?”

 

Taehyung’s laughter on the other end of the phone does not help Jimin’s confidence one bit. But the man is right, if he’s flustered at the thought of the pink-haired barista, if he runs away when the man is within five feet of him – he’ll probably fall into a coma if they have a conversation.

 

“Oh my God! I’m a mess, what the hell is wrong with me? Is your brother secretly some sort of magical confidence-sucking being? Because I was all right, just fine, then he walked into my Music Theory class and wrecked my life.”

 

“To be fair, you joined his class. As far as I know, the only magical power Namjoon possesses is clumsiness. In our family he’s known as the god of destruction - because when he touches, looks at, or stands near anything, it typically breaks. He once set the stove on fire just by turning it on. I thought his destructive genius applied to inanimate objects only, maybe I was wrong.” Taehyung sounds thoughtful and Jimin wonders if his friend _really_ is trying to find some correlation between his nervousness and Namjoon destructive tendencies.

 

“I don’t think I can reasonably blame my lack of sentence-forming skills on Namjoon. Although, I seem to get all brain melty and tongue-tied when he’s around.”

 

“Brain melty and tongue-tied, can I tell Jungkook you said this?”

 

“No, you can’t. But what you can do is help me figure out how to talk to your brother without sounding like I need to register for remedial classes.”

 

He can hear Taehyung snickering on the line.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t make the situation awkward or anything, you don’t even have to talk to him. I just thought, bringing you around more would be a good first step to infiltration.”

 

“Taehyung, seriously you’re genius!”

 

“I know.” Taehyung replies matter-of-fact.

 

Jimin jumps in glee and his phone falls from his grasp, once again sliding under the bed (damn it is there some sort of phone-magnet under there?). When he retrieves the device, the call has disconnected and Jimin puffs his cheeks in frustration. He contemplates calling back or sending a text because they hadn’t made a plan, he doesn’t know the when, where, or how of _‘project: show up at Namjoon’s house’_.

 

He almost cries in relief when his phone vibrates and he sees Taehyung’s name pop up.

 

Jimin smiles and throws the phone on the pillow next to him. It’s five thirty in the morning and he hasn’t slept for more than two hours, but not even lack of sleep and limited brain function can dampen the excitement he feels. Eight and a half hours from now, he will be one step closer to making Kim Namjoon his, okay, maybe not his, but infiltration is well on its way.

 

“Thanks Tae,” Jimin says out loud as his eyes close and sleep slips under his covers to claim him.

 

 

**Namjoon**

Namjoon will be the first to admit that he has a bad memory; he only remembers about forty percent of a day’s events. However, right now he’s one hundred percent confident that the boy with the dark brown hair and cherub-like features, sitting cross-legged next to Taehyung in front of his television (engaged in a Mario Kart war) is the same one that ran from him (like he was on fire) five days ago (okay seventy-five percent, but that’s still pretty high).

 

He would join the game but he feels like he’s in timeout in his own home, banished to the dining table (technically a fold out card table, but it works) in the corner behind the two boys. Namjoon doesn’t mind, not really, it’s a side effect of being Taehyung’s older brother. Plus he gets to ogle Jim-something-or-the-other freely. _Pak Jiming? No, that’s not it. Pal Jin… Park Jimin? Yes, that sounds right._ Namjoon can’t place it, but he knows he has seen Jimin somewhere prior to his runaway bride-esque escape from the other day.

 

The two boys are sitting on the floor of Namjoon’s tiny apartment trash talking and snickering, and Namjoon won’t lie, Jimin’s smile is kind of adorable (and distracting). He wonders if it’s normal that he’s totally okay with being the third wheel in his own home (probably not), but Jimin’s laughter is infectious and refreshing.The way the boy’s eyes completely disappear when he smiles has Namjoon doing complex math equations in his head, trying to decipher why Jimin’s smile has an effect on his heart rate.

 

He stifles a giggle (rappers don’t giggle) when the phone in the pocket of his hoodie begins to vibrate, tickling him in the side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hyung, do you have any food?” Taehyung’s closeness startles Namjoon slightly.

 

“How long have you been standing there?” He asks covering his phone screen, shielding Taehyung from Yoongi’s words.

 

“I just walked over here. Why? Were you watching porn on your phone again?”

 

Normally, that question would find Taehyung in a headlock begging for his life, but they have company and Jimin’s already run from him in fear once (he thinks, he’s pretty sure, like sixty-eight percent), he doesn’t want to give the thick-thighed cherub a reason for a repeat performance.

 

“No Taehyung, I am not watching porn on my phone. Mom brought over some kimchijeon yesterday, there’s some left along with rice and kimchi.”

 

“Wait! Mom’s kimchi? You have mom’s kimchi in your fridge?”

 

Namjoon laughs, he’d saved the kimchi knowing his brother was coming today, even though it was hard to (he had to will himself away from fridge on more than one occasion) since their mother is an exceptional cook. But it was worth it considering the look of absolute bliss on Taehyung’s face.

 

“Yeah, I saved it for you because I knew you were coming today.” Namjoon turns to face Jimin, “I’m sorry I don’t have more food, I didn’t know Tae was bringing company, I would have gone grocery shopping then.”

 

Taehyung has the decency to at least look embarrassed (even if he’s not).

 

“Sorry hyung, I forgot to mention it. Jimin and I were supposed to hang out, but I haven’t seen you in like a hundred years and I asked if him he wanted to tag along. Turns out you two share a class toge--”

 

“That’s it,” Namjoon blurts out, “That’s why you look so familiar. Music theory, right?” Jimin nods and Namjoon can’t help but smile at the slight blush that colors the boy’s face and he is curious as to why.

 

“Hyung, I don’t see the kimchi.” Taehyung yells from the kitchen and a small part of Namjoon wants to curse at his brother for disrupting him while he gawks at Jimin. A bigger  
(wiser,let's-not-be-more-awkward-than-we-already-are) part of him wants to kiss Taehyung for saving him from possibly, probably, and most definitely, let’s be honest, doing or saying something hugely and irrevocably embarrassing.

 

Namjoon turns away from the blushing Jimin, who Namjoon notices has still not made a single audible sound directed towards him since he’s stepped foot into his house. _Is he mute? No, he was yelling during Mario Kart? Deaf maybe? No, he acknowledged my question about class. Did I do something to him?_ Namjoon racks his brain for clues to Jimin’s silence as he walks to the kitchen. He bypasses the large box (where Taehyung’s head is currently lodged) and stops in front of a smaller chrome metal box.

 

“It’s in here.”

 

“When’d you get a kimchi fridge?” Taehyung inquiries, taking the container from Namjoon’s hand.

 

“Uhmm, mom.”

 

“Clearly she doesn’t understand the meaning of, ‘we will not be supporting you.’”  
Namjoon flinches at the statement and this time when Taehyung looks embarrassed, Namjoon knows he means it. “Sorry hyung, that was insensitive.”

 

“S’okay,” he smiles even though the statement stung, he knows Taehyung didn’t mean anything by it.

 

Namjoon retreats from the kitchen and walks backwards, and as he turns around, he bumps into an unsuspecting Jimin - who is standing by the entrance. A slight “umph” escapes Jimin’s lips as Namjoon’s momentum transfers to him and sends him tumbling back. The boy reaches out for something, anything to steady himself and Namjoon, but gravity is not on their side. Jimin’s small frame is unable to withstand the timber-like fall of Namjoon as he crashes into him. As he falls, Namjoon reaches out to catch the leg of the card table, hoping to slow his momentum and prevent Jimin from colliding with the cold tiles.

 

For a brief moment he thinks his plan works, but when the table slips backward and pulls Namjoon forward (so that his body slides up Jimin’s), he remembers that p=(m x v) (because who doesn’t think complex math while tumbling to the ground): where m is mass of the object (his fat ass), v is velocity of the object (how quickly his fat ass is moving) and p is how much it will hurt when they land. The fall happens in slow motion, like a scene from the worst action movie ever made. Namjoon watches helplessly as limbs flail and fly in every direction, and he watches in horror as Jimin’s head slips further and further down his body. He curses his decision to grab the _damn table leg_ (because if his math is correct, and it always is, once they land Jimin will have found another reason to run from him).

 

When they finally collapse onto the dining room floor, Namjoon hopes and prays that this time his math is wrong. He feels Jimin move beneath him and is acutely aware that his calculations are indeed correct (damn his perfect math skills). He peers downward, with his eyes closed, wishing upon every star that comes to mind, that he won’t open his eyes to find Jimin’s adorable face in his crotch (no, he is NOT thinking about where Jimin’s plump lips may be at this moment, he is _not_ ). Namjoon cracks open a lid and takes a deep breath before confirming his suspicions. Yup, there it is, Jimin face nestled in his groin (like it was a part his anatomy), if he weren't so mortified by the what just happened Namjoon would be more than a little turned on by the sight.

 

“Holy fuck hyung!” Taehyung screams and Namjoon looks at his younger sibling hoping his eyes convey his silent plea for help.

 

They do.

 

Taehyung helps him up thus freeing Jimin from crotch-confinement, Namjoon can’t look at the boy as he apologizes for sitting on his face (without permission).

 

“I am so sorry, I was trying to stop…then the table, and… Fuck! I’m so sorry.” Namjoon stutters his apology, eyes firmly on the ground (as though the dark brown wood was the most fascinating sight he’s ever seen) because looking into hell would be more acceptable than looking at Jimin.

 

Namjoon expects to hear disdain, he expects Jimin to be offended, but when he hears laughter instead of crying coming from the brown-haired boy, well, then…Jimin becomes the most fascinating thing he has ever seen.

 

 

“Damn, hyung, Taehyung said you were a walking disaster, but this, this –” Jimin can’t talk through his fits of hysterical laughter, and Namjoon is not sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

 

“It’s not that funny,” Namjoon pouts and walks away.

 

“I’m sorry hyung, it’s just that I was super nervous to meet you. You know with you being you and me being me, and all. Then this happens and… holy fuck!” Jimin’s eyes widen as his hands fly to his mouth and Namjoon turns just in time to catch the act.

 

“Nervous to meet me? Why?”

 

And for the second time in less than one week, Jimin runs away from Namjoon.

 

 

**Jimin**

_No, I did not just tell Kim Namjoon that I was nervous to meet him only moments after having my face dislodged from his groin._

 

Jimin lets out a groan as he walks into his dorm room.

 

“What was that for?” Jungkook looks up from his spot on the floor.

 

“Why are you doing sit-ups in just your underwear?” Jimin tries hard not to stare, but a near naked Jungkook is very distracting.

 

“I went to the gym and came home to shower, got undressed and then remembered I didn’t do abs. I’m too lazy to put on clothes, only to have to take it off again, so here I am.” Jungkook sits up and turns towards him, and Jimin wishes with all his heart that he didn’t like the way his best friend’s muscles rippled as he moved (damn Jungkook and his perfect body). “So, the groan of despair?”

 

“Nothing, just me once again proving I am the world’s most awkward human being.”

 

“I beg to differ, have you met Taehyung?”

 

Jimin laughs and smacks Jungkook on the arm as he joins him on the floor.

 

“Tae is a lot of things, but awkward is not one of them.”

 

“He talks to laundry, hyung. How on any earth is that not awkward?”

 

Jimin shrugs, Taehyung isn’t the one who landed face first on Namjoon’s genitals, confessed he made him nervous, then ran away like a scared child.

 

“It’s just not.” Jimin leans back until he is laying down and facing the ceiling, “I did something super embarrassing today, and I think I may have messed up pretty bad.”

 

“What happened?” Jungkook sounds worried. Jimin turns to look at the boy, suddenly very grateful and thankful for his friend. He knows that Jungkook hates the “mushy stuff” (as he calls it), but he’ll suffer through it for Jimin.

 

“You sure you want to listen? It’s pretty bad.” Jimin sighs, eyeing Jungkook warily. “I have to be honest, I’m worried that telling you will provide you with more ammunition against me than I want you to have.”

 

“Hyung, your mere existence provides me with ammo, and Taehyung will just tell me later anyway. Why put yourself through the pain of carrying this burden alone? Just tell me.”

 

Jimin can’t argue with the Jungkook’s logic (well he could, but he wouldn't win).

 

“Fine, but you need to put a shirt on, I can’t concentrate with your abs staring at me like that, they’re so rude.”

 

His roommate’s laughter is contagious, and Jimin finds himself laughing too. Jungkook comes back wearing a t-shirt but remains pantless, stating his abs are not on his legs, and again Jimin can’t argue.

 

“Okay, now spill.”

 

Jimin takes a deep breath, pushes down every thought of what Jungkook can (and will) do with the information he is about to divulge. He opens his mouth and tells Jungkook everything starting from Taehyung’s texternade, moving on to his face in Namjoon’s crotch and finishing with the near confession and his great escape.

 

“Fuck. Wait. So your face was like, all up in his bologna pony?” Jimin knows that Jungkook is trying hard not to laugh and while he appreciates his friend’s effort, a small part of him wants to punch Jungkook for even thinking this is remotely funny.

 

“His what? Where the hell do you come up with these things?”

 

“I get a word of the day from Urban Dictionary. I like learning.” Jungkook answers easily and all Jimin can do is stare (it explains so much). Jungkook continues, “I get that the situation was a bit, you, know… unusual. But I don’t get why you ran. I mean, you like him, right? So, what’s the big deal if he knows?” Jungkook asks the question as though he really didn’t know the answer.

 

“Are you seriously asking me why?” Jimin thinks maybe the boy is joking. No sane person would ever confess how they felt without knowing if the other person was at least interested.

 

“Uhm, yeah. Why not just tell him how you feel? It’ll go a long way to uncomplicating things. If he likes you back, then great. If he doesn’t, then you can move on.”

 

Jimin was about to argue, he was about to tell Jungkook that wasn’t how things worked. He doesn’t because... well, Jungkook has a point. _A damn good point_. He could just tell Namjoon that he liked him, that he found him to be smart and funny and adorably clumsy. He could tell Namjoon that he thought he was talented and if he gave him just one night he’d rock his world (okay maybe he won’t go that far, but if you're going to be honest shouldn’t it be a hundred percent?).

 

“I don’t think I can do that Kookie. I get stupid around him. I feel stupid around him. I know all you see is a clumsy oaf, but I see so much more. I see a talented rapper, someone with a creative spirit. Also, did you know he’s smart? Like rocket science smart? He can do or be anything he wants to be but he’s following his dreams. Namjoon is someone I could never match up to.” Jimin throws himself on the ground dramatically and covers his face with his hands.

 

“Look, I’m not too good with the mushy stuff, that’s why we have Taehyung, but I know this much - you match up Jimin. You may not be book smart, but that doesn’t mean you’re not intelligent. As for following your dreams, not to diss your love muffin, but Namjoon’s got nothing on you. I watch how hard you practice. I’m the one that curses you every morning when you get up before the sun just so you can be the first one at the studio. I’m here when you come home drenched in sweat and smelling like a dead dog, because you’ve been practicing non-stop for hours. Namjoon isn’t better than you in any way. Hell, the fact that you can hold a cup of water and not drop it, tells me he may not match up to you. That kid’s gawky as fuck.”

 

“Yah, show some respect, brat. He’s your hyung.”

 

“Fine, that hyung is a walking disaster zone, and if you two start dating I’m taking out a life insurance policy in your name and making myself the beneficiary. Because if today’s events are any indicator, your lifespan will be shortened and it’s only fair that I be compensated for my emotional grief.”

 

Had that statement come from anyone else Jimin would have been offended, but after years of training he knows this is how Jungkook shows concern.

 

“Fine as long as you take care of my omma.” Jimin laughs slapping Jungkook on the back.

 

“Consider it done. Your mom will be taken care of when you die in that freak toast burning incident.” Jungkook gets up off the ground then stops and turns toward Jimin, “Hyung, you should never feel insecure. You really are more than good enough.” Jungkook’s tone is serious, and it has Jimin looking up, expecting to see mirth or the crinkle of laughter outlined in the edges of Jungkook’s eyes. When their eyes meet, though - all he sees is care, concern, and all the reasons why (despite his inability to wear pants) Jeon Jungkook is his best friend in the entire world.

 

Jimin is stunned into a momentary silence. Jungkook’s not one for emotional outbursts, especially when he hasn’t won a competition or an argument. He calls after Jungkook just before the man ducks into the bedroom.

 

“Kookie.”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Thanks, that means a lot.” Jimin gets up from his spot on the floor and walks towards Jungkook.

 

“You’re not gonna hug me are you?” Jungkook asks eyeing Jimin warily.

 

Jimin’s eyes disappear, and a mischievous smile spreads across his face as he continues walking toward Jungkook with his arms spread wide.

 

“Kookie let’s hug it out.”

 

“I swear to God if you even try I will take off my shirt and my underwear and sit on you naked,” Jungkook says as he slowly backs out of Jimin grasp.

 

“Mmm, you know I like guys, right? Plus, I’ve been meaning to have a talk with your disrespectful abs. Tonight seems as good a time as any.” Jimin continues his advancement.

 

“Did I mention I will be passing gas intermittently, while sitting on you?” Jimin’s steps falter and Jungkook stops backing away possibly sensing his imminent victory.

 

“Why are you so gross?” Jimin says but the mental picture of Jungkook sitting on him naked while farting is just too comical and he soon finds himself dropping to the floor in uncontrollable laughter, his faux pas with Namjoon a distant memory.

 

That night he falls asleep to thoughts of Namjoon, but instead of a nightmare-like replay of the day’s event (intensified by the dream state), he dreams of Namjoon’s smile. He dreams of the way the man’s dimples peek out (like a ray of sunshine after a rainy day) and grace his face, softening his sometimes stern looking features. He dreams of the moments where he was brave enough to sneak a peek at the would-be-rapper only to meet the man’s quizzical gaze staring back at him.

 

Jimin smiles as he falls further into slumber.

 

All's not lost, after all. For now he has Taehyung and Jungkook, and Namjoon staring back at him (he's taking that as a good sign). His face in Namjoon’s crotch aside (which Jimin surmises is his end game anyway, he is just a bit ahead of schedule) the plan to infiltrate is well on its way.

 

 

*****************

“Mind if I sit here?”

 

 _That voice sounds so familiar_ , Jimin’s sleepy mind tells him but he is too tired (and too mad at the time on the clock) to look up. The voice is smooth and rich, like velvet or warm, melted chocolate and it makes Jimin feel warm inside (still he doesn’t look up). He lets out a grunt and waves his hand in the direction of the seat, hoping “the voice” will understand he is giving permission -- it’s all he has the strength to do right (he may be a little hungover). Jimin hears “the voice” chuckle, and he takes it as a good sign. He plops his head down on the desk, figuring he has enough time to get at least ten minutes of uninterrupted sleep in before class officially starts.

 

But “the voice” interrupts him.

 

“Thanks for letting me sit here Jimin, Sungyeol brought his little brother to observe the class, and he’s sitting in my seat.”

 

_The voice knows my name?_

 

_Holy._

 

_Fuck._

 

_Namjoon!_

 

Jimin contemplates banging his head on the desk till his brains spew out, but then he’ll never get to initiate “Hostile Takeover” and that can NOT be allowed. He turns his head slowly to look at “the voice”, taking relief in how oddly comforting the cool desk feels against his heated cheeks.

 

“Hyung,” Jimin croaks out, “sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude (apparently it just comes naturally around you), It’s just… I mean I went out last night –” Jimin lets out a big sigh (why are you always around when I do something stupid?)

 

“S’okay, I get it. I’m only this awake right now because I’ve had like ten cups of coffee.” Namjoon’s words feel like salve being applied to Jimin’s broken pride.

 

They sit quietly for a bit as Jimin’s brain scrambles to come up with a response. _Thanks, hyung? Sorry again? Why do you always appear out of nowhere when my brain is not functioning at full capacity?_ (He rules out the last one).

 

“Thanks for understanding hyung.” Jimin lifts his head off the desk sitting up properly. “I am really sorry if I was rude. Normally when I’m up before the sun, it’s to practice my dancing and that, you know, wakes you up. But sitting in a classroom at dawn, after a night of drinking games, as it turns out, is not good for my personality.”

 

“Drinking games, huh? Did you win?” Namjoon turns to face him fully, and Jimin now understands why people don’t look directly into the sun.

 

“Naw, we played _straight face_. I never win at that game, because I am prone to the giggles, uhm, I mean laughter… I’m prone to laughter.” Jimin mentally face-palms.

 

_Really Park, the giggles? Why don’t you tell him you sleep with a teddy bear, too?_

 

Namjoon smiles and moves his mouth as though about to say something, but stops short when the professor walks in to start the class. Jimin is not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved, a bit of both probably. He turns to focus on what’s being taught but his mind is having trouble concentrating, and he’s not sure if it’s the after effects of the alcohol or Namjoon’s proximity.

 

Class ends and Jimin has no idea what they just learned. What he _has_ learned, however, is that Namjoon’s nose crinkles in the cutest way when he’s concentrating. He also learned that Namjoon’s dimples get deeper as he talks, and Jimin had to sit on his hand more than once during class to keep himself from poking his finger in once just to see how deep they were. He also learned that sitting next to your crush is very distracting and if he wants to pass this class he can’t let this happen again (although if Namjoon asks again next week his answer will be, _hell yes_ ).

 

“Hey, you have a minute?” Jimin gawks at the man’s question. He wasn’t, isn’t, and will never be mentally prepared for Namjoon speaking to him.

 

“Uhmm, yes?” _Why does it sound like a question?_

 

Namjoon’s brows knit together for a moment but immediately smooth out, and Jimin almost passes out when Namjoon’s hand lands on his back to gently guide him out the door. They end up in an empty classroom, Namjoon shutting the door behind them, and Jimin prays to every deity he can think of that he doesn't say anything too egregious.

 

“So, uhm…” Namjoon starts once they’ve settled in the room, “about that thing that happened, you know, when uhmm…that day with Tae, when we fell down - you and I. I just wanted to say sorry. I’m a bit clumsy, and I really was trying to keep you from falling, but…uhm, yeah – so for where your face landed, I am super sorry!” Namjoon stands staring uncomfortably, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Jimin can’t help but swoon a bit over how adorable the sort of pink-haired man is.

 

“Hyung, why are you apologizing? I was the one who was loitering at the entrance like a statue or something. Plus, it was an accident, you didn’t mean to push my face into your crotch ( _oh fuck Park, stop speaking, stop speaking now_ ). Unless you did, which you know is what-evs ( _why are my lips still moving?_ ). Maybe your friend needed a little ( _PARK JIMIN SHUT YOUR MOUTH THIS INSTANT!_ ) –”

 

Jimin’s mind wins the battle with his lips, and he stops talking. He would run away, but Namjoon is standing with his back leaning against Jimin’s only means of escape. He’s trapped and embarrassed and _seriously what made him believe he could be normal in front of Kim Namjoon?_

 

“Maybe my friend needed, what?” Namjoon asks from his position against the door.

 

_Well fuck!_

 

Jimin takes a deep breath, “As previously discussed, though not in depth, my brain seems to go on vacation whenever I am around you. So, please for the sake of my fragile and heavily bruised pride, please let’s not have this conversation till we are better acquainted.”

 

Namjoon’s laughter is soothing, and Jimin finds his erratically beating heart calming down.

 

“Fine, but let’s get better acquainted quickly because I want to have that conversation as soon as humanly possibly.” Namjoon voice is a mixture of mirth and something else that Jimin feels in his gut, but can’t give a name to.

 

Jimin smiles widely, a giddy feeling overtaking his entire body, before he extends his hand in Namjoon’s direction and bows.

 

“Hello, my name is Park Jimin. Can we be friends?”

 

Namjoon leans up off the door and holds Jimin’s hand firmly.

 

“Nice to me you Jimin. My name is Kim Namjoon, and I would love to be your friend.”

 

Infiltration is achieved with a handshake and is accompanied by butterflies in Jimin’s stomach. _Hostile Takeover_ is next, and if the infiltration process was any indicator of the things to come, Jimin’s not sure if either of them will survive step three.

 

 

**Meanwhile**

“So, I have been thinking,” Taehyung is sitting in front of Jungkook in the cafeteria as he speaks slowly.

 

“Mmm, that can’t be good,” Jungkook replies ducking in time to miss the French fry that comes flying in his direction.

 

“It’s a GREAT thing. Thank you very much. Anyway, I was thinking, this Jimin and my hyung thing should be more fun, you know, for us.”

 

“I’m listening,” Jungkook leans forward in his chair giving Taehyung is full attention.

 

“How about we help Jimin and hyung out?” Taehyung air quotes “help” and smiles, “You know because we’re Jimin’s friends, and we care about him. If things become humorous, you know, because my hyung’s a walking construction zone and Jimin is awkward as fuck around him, that’s all the better for us.”

 

Jungkook smiles his bunny smile, eyes sparkling with mischievous anticipation.

 

“Yes, we should “help” our friend out.”

 

With a handshake and big matching grins: _Operation Infiltrate Jimin’s Plan_ is born.

 

 

***So come talk to me[ here](http://lulublu1014.tumblr.com/)***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! An update (I'm surprised too). So, this had me laughing while writing, Jimin and Namjoon are delightfully awkward. Let me know what you think. Kudo and comment if you like what you've read.  
> Happy Reading  
> Lulu


	4. STEP THREE: Hostile Take Over (Kiss Me Like You want To Be Loved)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan, that’s what they are. The living, breathing embodiment of Satan. Okay, maybe not the devil himself but definite heirs to the dark throne for sure. Jimin’s sleepy mind is ranting about the two boys, his supposed best friends, the very same two boys who have spent the better part of this day trying to turn his life into an episode of Punk’d. 
> 
> or
> 
> The time I learned that almost all movie titles can be substituted for the word penis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we made it! I'm sorry to see this story end. Thank you all for taking this crazy ride with me. Also a big thank you to the mighty Bug for making this story readable. 
> 
> All text messages are based on real texts or kkt messages between my friends and I.

Satan, that’s what they are. The living, breathing embodiment of Satan. Okay, maybe not the devil himself but definite heirs to the dark throne for sure. Jimin’s sleepy mind is ranting about the two boys, his supposed best friends, the very same two boys who have spent the better part of this day trying to turn his life into an episode of Punk’d. _Squeak-squeak-squeak_ , the mattress groans under his weight as he turns over, trying to get comfortable on the bed. Even breathing pulls him into the present and he smiles…okay maybe not evil heirs to the throne, but there needs to be sufficient revenge. Namjoon stretches beside him and tightens his hold on Jimin’s thigh, and all ideas for payback have melted away with the blonde’s warm touch.

_Angels, they’re goddamn fucking angels_

 

**Twelve Hours Prior**

 

 

He takes a deep breath and looks at the screen once again. _What the fuck is Jungkook playing at?_

 

 

_HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF ALL THINGS HOLY._

Jungkook is dead, six feet under, never to see the light of day…dead. Jimin takes a deep breath and looks at his screen. Namjoon, he just fucking called Kim Namjoon his forever OTP (by pairing he means them, of course) an asswipe. He opens his contacts app to confirm his suspicions are correct and there in block numbers are Namjoon’s digits sitting happily under Jungkook’s header. The thought dawns on Jimin that death is not punishment enough for this crime.

“Fucking Jeon Jungkook, just wait until I get my hands on you,” Jimin warns the empty apartment.

 

As he waits for a response, he quickly updates the contact name, smiling manically as he does it. He also takes the time to delete the day clock on his screen that has been bugging him by being stuck at 8:32 AM. Namjoon’s reply comes through just as soon as Jimin’s done applauding himself for being crafty with contact names.

 

_My opt? Sigh stupid keyboard_. He fixes the mistake and snickers at his witty repartee mentally patting himself on the back  
(Jungkook is so wrong, he’s funny as hell).

 

 

No, he most certainly did not giggle like a schoolgirl and blush. Nope. Not. At. All. He gets ready for school with a smile on his face despite his lack of undergarment. He’s still gonna get revenge, but he won’t kill Jungkook, just maybe maim him a bit. Jungkook will live to see another day. Frozen underwear have led to him starting his day with Namjoon and funny conversations, and his tall OTP barista wanting to talk to him again, so win-win.

“I’m plotting your demise, just so you know,” Jimin informs Jungkook as he drops his bag down on the desk next to his roommate.

“What, I was helping you to cool down.” The maniacal laughter that Jungkook lets loose tells Jimin that his friend had anything but his best interest in mind.

“No worries, I plan on rewarding you appropriately for your care and compassion.” Jimin arranges his books on the desk carefully and tries not to laugh out loud at the gulp of air Jungkook swallows nervously (pranks may be Jungkook’s forte, but revenge is his).

“Uhmm, what do you mean by appropriately?” Jungkook whispers.

“Shhh, class has started. I’m taking notes.” He hides the smirk with his hand.

“Lies,” Jungkook replies as he turns his eyes to the front of the room.

Class ends and Jimin grabs his stuff and ducks out quickly. He needs to make it home before Jungkook; he has a very special surprise for his roommate (insert evil laugh here). Jungkook was right, he was lying. He hadn’t heard one single thing the professor had said (he’ll pay for it come test time he supposes). Instead, he used his Econ II class time to think of a suitable punishment. The grin on his face is large, too large, but the plan is just so good it warrants the Cheshire cat smile.

He’s sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over his lower body and book in his hand when Jungkook finally makes it back to their dorm.

“Where’d you go so quickly? Taehyung and I waited for you to go grab lunch at that bubble tea place.” Jungkook drops next to him on the couch, his thigh brushing against Jimin’s blanketed feet.

“Had some stuff to catch up on,” he replies nonchalantly and watches as Jungkook nervously scans the room, looking for possible signs of his impending punishment Jimin supposes. He holds back a giggle. He’s a man of his word, and Jungkook is very aware of that.

“So, uhmmm…what’ya up to?” Jungkook eyes him carefully.

“Mmm, what do you mean?” Jimin keeps his eyes on his book as he slowly turns the page.

“Nothing?” It sounds like a question _that’s right, brat, be very afraid._

Jimin looks up slowly and holds Jungkook’s quizzical gaze.

“Why does that sound like a question, Kook?”

“Does it? Not sure why.” Jungkook averts his eyes.

Jimin stifles the laugh that’s wanting to erupt from his body like a live volcano.

“I ordered food if you’re hungry. It’s on the counter,” Jimin says, looking back at the book in his hand and abruptly changing the topic of conversation (he knows it’ll put Jungkook further on edge).

He can feel Jungkook staring at him, but he doesn’t look up (mentally rubs hands together evil genius style). The couch cushions bounce back as Jungkook get’s up and slowly walks to the dining area.

“Lamb skewers! Hyung you got lamb skewers!” The boy’s excitement is so evident Jimin almost, almost feels bad about what he’s about to do.

Jungkook’s back is toward him as he quietly creeps up behind the younger man, pushing his front right up against Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, that’s right they’re your favorite. How did I forget that?” His mouth is right at Jungkook neck, and he feels the younger man stiffen.

“H-hyung, w-what are you doing?”

“Nothing, just snuggling up to my favorite dongsaeng.” Jimin can’t help laughing this time. Jungkook takes a step forward and turns around and Jimin wishes he had had the foresight to have his camera ready.

“What d’fuck Jimin! Why do you not have on any pants, and shit did you just rub your ring-ding-dong against my favorite blue jeans?” BAZINGA! _That’s what you get brat. Payback’s a bitch._

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asks innocently, eyes widened for effect.

“What’s wrong, what’s wrong? You’re fucking naked hyung, that’s what’s wrong.” Jungkook screeches and Jimin is having a hard time maintaining his calm exterior.

“I'm wearing a t-shirt. I’m not naked at all.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook exclaims and Jimin won’t lie; it’s kinda of cute watching the boy trying to avert his eyes from looking down.

“You said you wanted me to be cool, well you have no idea how nice and cool it is down there now,” Jimin says pointing down, and Jungkook’s eyes follow unwittingly.

The boy pushes him back and runs out of the kitchen like a bat of hell, and Jimin thinks revenge really is a dish best served cold. Jungkook comes to find him not long after, the grimace on the boy’s face showing a mixture of disgust and repentance.

“Okay, I may have deserved retribution. But I thought we had a bros-don’t-look-at-another-bro’s-sausage code?” Jungkook’s eyes are so wide Jimin feels somewhat guilty (nah, not really).

“We also have a punishment-fits-the-crime code, and you took away my ding-dong’s home. Therefore, your punishment is to see it.” Jimin’s body rumbles slightly as he tries to hold back his laughter.

“I saw it, trust me. Now can we cover it?” Jungkook asks, throwing his hand over his eyes dramatically. “I will never be able to unsee that. I hope the fact that you’ve scarred my innocence for life has made you happy.”

“Very.” Jimin finally releases all his held back laughter as he walks to his room to put on a pair of sweats.

He walks back to the dining area and finds Jungkook scarfing down a lamb kabob.

“I thought you already ate,” he says, joining the younger man at the table and grabbing a skewer.

“No, I said Taehyung and I waited for you.” Jungkook corrects him. “I said nothing about actually eating.”

“Why didn’t you guys eat?”

“I was, you know, but, uhm… it just felt weird, okay?” Jungkook eyes are darting everywhere, and Jimin knows it’s his friends tell. Jungkook’s feeling uncomfortable.

“Why? It’s just Taehyung, we’ve gone out a bunch of times,” he says carefully, not wanting to push the issue.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why I’m like this either. Just felt weird, is all.” Jungkook turns to face him, “Not gonna lie, while the free willy moment was traumatizing, I really expected a more severe payback.”

“You can thank Namjoon hyung for saving your life. I called the man an asswipe and he still continued a conversation with me. Also, just so you know, you’re an asswipe.”

“I can accept that,” Jungkook says with a nod and a look that has Jimin thinking if the man’s hair was long enough a hair flip would be in order. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but how did Namjoon hyung save my life?”

“I told you, he continued to text me even though I called him and asswipe and asked him why he froze my underwear.”

Jungkook’s laughter is contagious, and Jimin can't help joining in. The stats for the day are rather funny: frozen underwear, then he called his crush an asswipe, only to have a domestic-type conversation with said tall-drink-of-lemonade-crush and finally he rubbed his magic mic all over Jungkook’s favorite jeans (as far more lenient revenge than he deserved). All in all, despite still having no clean underwear, it’s been a pretty decent day so far. He hears his phone vibrating on the table.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Jimin-ah, what are you doing right now?” Taehyung asks excitedly on the line.

“Nothing, why?”

“Can you help me set up a birthday surprise for my hyung?”

“It’s Namjoon hyung’s birthday?” Jimin feels like the worst not-but-wanna-be boyfriend ever.

“Mmm,” Taehyung replies on the other end.

“How can I help?” Jimin asks.

“Uhmm, I’m gonna make seaweed soup and Italian Spaghetti, and maybe decorate, as a surprise for when he gets home from work today. Are you in?” Taehyung asks.

Yes. It’s his first reaction. Yes is always his first reaction when it comes to Namjoon. But he hesitates and looks up to see Jungkook staring at him with a “what’s up” look on his face. He puts his hand over the phone and mouths “surprise for Namjoon hyung,” Jungkook makes an “O” shape with his lips, then shrugs his shoulders and quirks his eyebrows as though asking Jimin what he’s going to do, to which he whispers, “What should I do?” When Jungkook whispers, “Go,” it’s all the confirmation Jimin needs.

“Sure! I’m in,” Jimin replies, trying but failing to contain his excitement.

“Excellent. See you in a bit. You remember how to get here, right?”

Does he remember how to to get there? Does he remember how to (does Taehyung know who he’s talking to?) – he’s been stalking the blonde for the better half of a semester now. Yes. He knows how to get there. If it involves Namjoon, he not only knows how to get there, he’s been there (more than once).

“Yes, I remember. What time?” Jimin questions.

“Mmm, meet me here in like half an hour?”

“K, see ya in a bit.”

They disconnect the call, and Jimin is vibrating. Okay not really, but he feels like he’s buzzing, or, buzzed? Yes, buzzed; like that feeling you get when alcohol has found its target and your mind slowly starts to leave your body, that’s exactly how he feels right now. Like he’s inebriated, drunk on the thought of spending Namjoon’s birthday with him.

“So you gonna do it?” Jungkook asks.

‘Yeah, yeah I am. I should, right? Since I kinda like him and wanna make an impression. I should right?” Jimin is torn between wanting to be close to Namjoon and not wanting to invade the blonde’s space.

“Yeah, you should.” Jungkook agrees.

֎֎֎

Jimin’s dressed and out the door in under fifteen minutes and for a moment Jungkook feels guilty about what his friend is about to walk into. For most of the walk home he had contemplated confessing, but then Jimin decided to rub his Willy Wonka all over him and all plans for a peace treaty had been thrown out the window.

“Sorry Minnie. But it really is your own fault,” Jungkook says to the empty dorm room, hoping to alleviate some of his blooming guilt.

 

֎֎֎

“Hey,” Taehyung says. As he swings the door open a bright, boxy smile sits on his face.

“Hey,” Jimin replies, suddenly overwhelmed by Namjoon’s scent which seems to have filled every nook and cranny of the man’s tiny apartment. “So, how can I help?”

“Uhmm, we can start with the cooking. Do you know how to make seaweed soup?”

“Mmm.”

He’s made seaweed soup exactly once and was immediately instructed to never do it again. To be fair, he was ten when the seaweed incident occurred. He’s much older now and somewhat over his put-chocolate-in-everything stage. He pulls up the recipe on his phone as he follows Taehyung into the kitchen. He decides it doesn’t seem that difficult at all.

“You have the ingredients for the soup?” He turns to Taehyung after looking up from his phone.

“Mmm, meat’s in the freezer, everything else is in the cupboard to the right of the stove.” Jimin grabs the meat out of the freezer and tosses it on the counter, then makes his way to the spice cabinet. “Hey, grab me the spaghetti sauce too, while you’re at it.” Jimin nods.

“Have you made spaghetti before?” He asks Taehyung as he hands him the sauce and continues to scour for his ingredients.

“Nope. But how hard can it be? You boil the noodles then pour this bottle of red stuff all over it. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

Jimin shrugs, it does seem simple enough, but then again so had chocolate seaweed soup. He finds a suitable pot and places it on the stove, turning the heat to medium, then he measures the sesame seed oil and pours it into the heated pan. Next comes the meat, and he lets it cook down a bit before adding the other ingredients. He looks over, and Taehyung is standing over a large pan waiting for his water to boil.

“Do you do this for all Namjoon hyung’s birthdays?” Taehyung turns to face him.

“Mmm… growing up I’d help my mom bake him cookies for his birthday. Hyung’s honestly just a kid wrapped up in all those uncoordinated limbs. If it’s loved by a small child, it will be loved by hyung. Do you know he once ate a crayon to see if the red taste like str—wait, no that was me. Nevermind.”

He cracks a smile at Taehyung’s statement and continues with the soup, adding the water and soy sauce, salt and finally seaweed. He’s a bit proud that the soup looks like it’s supposed to, but he’s ecstatic when it actually tastes correct.

“That looks really good Minnie,” Taehyung says and turns in Jimin’s direction with red sauce in his hand.

The next few moments are unclear to Jimin. Either Taehyung turned too fast, or the sauce had a death wish. All Jimin knows for sure is that his entire front has been painted red, and the scent of roasted tomatoes seems to be sinking into his pores.

“Oh, shit! Jimin, I am so sorry,” Taehyung says as he tries to wipe the sauce off but really only succeeds at spreading it further.

“S’okay.”

“It most certainly is not. Follow me to the bathroom. There’s a washing machine in the basement. Take these off and give them to me. I’ll drop your clothing in the washing machine, then come back and find something in hyung’s closet that can fit you.

_Namjoon’s clothes! Omgomgomg I’m gonna wear Namjoon’s clothes._

Clothing is discarded with lightning fast speed in anticipation of wearing something that would have him swimming in Namjoon’s scent, and Namjoon’s fashion, and Namjoon’s warmth. Taehyung smiles at him, and in hindsight, Jimin should have paid attention to the feeling of _something’s-not-right-here_ that washed over him for a brief moment, but the thought of Namjoon stunted his usually perceptive nature. After twenty minutes of standing in Namjoon’s bathroom in nothing but angry bird ankle socks and Timberlands, it occurs to Jimin that maybe Taehyung doesn’t plan on coming back.

One hour and four minutes later Jimin has now not only plotted the deaths of both Jungkook and Taehyung but has killed them more than once in very gruesome ways. The first thing he notes as he looks around the small, closet-like room that houses a shower head, a toilet bowl, and a sink, is that there is no place to hide because the bathroom is the shower.

He starts to sing; he’s naked and trapped in the bathroom of the person he’s been crushing on for several months now, so yes, singing is appropriate at this time.

“You can be the peanut butter to my jelly, you be the butterflies I feel in my belly. You can be the captain and I can be your first mate. You can be the chills that I feel on our first date, you can be the hero and I can be the sidekick. You can be the tear that I cry if we ever spl-”

The sound of the front door slamming shut has Jimin’s heart pounding in his chest, like a fucking bass drum in a marching band.

_CODE RED. CODE RED. CODE RED._

He stands up from the toilet bowl and damn it to hell he remembers the bathroom is an all in one. He’s a sitting duck, a naked sitting duck, and the hunter is home.

 

֎֎֎

“Seriously, how does it take you that long to open a door?” Jackson asks, nearly falling through Namjoon’s front door. “You know my bladder is the size of a sunflower seed. Wait. Were you being slow on purpose?” the short blonde asks.

“You know, you’d be in the bathroom right now if you’d stop complaining and creating conspiracy theories,” Namjoon replies, turning his back to the man to hide his smile. Watching Jackson do the peepee dance may or may not be an aesthetic of his.

Jin catches him and gives a knowing look before patting his shoulder and walking past him into the apartment. They both giggle as they watch Jackson waddle to the bathroom, squeezing his legs together to prevent wetting himself.

“You’re evil at times, you know that right?” Jin looks at him, and a proud glint twinkles in his eyes.

“Serves him right for-” he doesn't get to finish.

“Namjoon!” Jackson’s voice is high pitched and loud, and Jin runs in the direction of the call almost immediately.

 

֎֎֎

“Namjoon! Why’s there a naked boy in you bathroom? He’s got fucking abs for days. I’m a bit jealous, to be honest. Also, can I have him?” The stranger is staring at him the same way Jungkook looks at freshly cooked meat and Jimin is somewhat frightened.

The man is staring shamelessly, eyes raking over Jimin’s body hungrily like a kid in a candy store. Both hands move instinctively to cover his Mr. Woodcock. The stranger’s eternal gaze is boring holes into his skin, and he can feel the blush burn from his neck to his ears. He hears footsteps approaching and he prays to every deity that the steps don’t belong to Namjoon. When his prayer is actually answered, he wishes the gods hadn’t listened so well.

“Oh my God! Namjoon did you steal a child? What’s he, like ten?” The second stranger is also staring, only his eyes register real concern, and Jimin feels somewhat guilty for having put Namjoon in this situation. Fucking Jungkook! If not for his roommate he’d at least be wearing underwear and not standing here with his Battlestar Galactica on display for all to see.

“What are you both talking abou—” Namjoon stops abruptly, his eyes grow so large Jimin’s worried they’re gonna pop out of his head. “Fuck Jimin, what…” Namjoon moves to stand in front him blocking him from the first man’s predatory gaze as well as the second man’s curious one. The action has Jimin swooning. He didn’t think it was possible, but he’s fallen for the tall, clumsy, barista a little bit more.

“You think the jail time will be worth it?” The second stranger asks, and Jimin would correct him, but really he’s butt fuck naked in a bathroom with no towels; all he freaking wants is some clothes.

The second stranger walks away after the statement.

“I like your Tims,” the first man chirps, and Jimin grabs the back of Namjoon’s shirt and steps closer to the barista/rapper, blocking the peering head of stranger number one.

“Really Jackson?” Namjoon deadpans. “The kid’s naked in my bathroom, and you want to have a conversation about his footwear?”

“What? I like his shoes, is that a crime?” Jimin surmises it’s not, but _seriously dude._

“Here,” the second stranger says, and Jimin sticks his head out to see what the man has brought.

“Thanks, hyung,” Namjoon replies, taking what looks like sweats and a t-shirt (angels are singing, birds are chirping, and all’s right with the world. Namjoon has clothes in his hands, and Jimin’s not crying from sheer joy, he swears).

It’s official, he likes the second stranger best.

“You two out,” Namjoon says to the two men still loitering at the door.

 _No blushing, no blushing, please no blushing_ Jimin prays to the god of red facial features and embarrassment as Namjoon turns towards him.

“You okay?” Namjoon’s voice is so deep that for a moment Jimin’s brain stops and he stares, unable to reply.

“Mmm.” He nods and waits for the rest of his words to download to his brain. “Sorry about this hyung, Tae-” he’s cut off before he can explain.

“Dress first please, I--just dress first, we can talk after. I’m trying to be a stand-up guy and not… Just dress first, okay?” Jimin watches him leave the bathroom and damn it, blushing.

He’s left standing in the bathroom with sweatpants and a t-shirt, and it takes all his strength to not bury his nose in the fabric and inhale Namjoon’s scent. He looks up when he hears stranger number two’s voice.

“Is that him?” the man asks. “Taehyung’s friend? Because I agree, delicious lips.”

“Fuck hyung, keep it down will ya? Your voice carries.” Namjoon exclaims.

The second stranger laughs.

“Are you sure he’s legal? That kid looks stupid young, Joonie.”

“Hyung,” Namjoon’s voice is moving away and Jimin moves closer to the door. “Hyung, even if he wasn’t legal, I think he’d be the worth the jail time, don’t you?”

“I wholeheartedly concur!” stranger one, Jackson exclaims.

 _Well fuck me backward, Namjoon thinks my lips are delicious and would go to jail for me_.

He gives into the urge and buries his face in Namjoon clothes to inhale the man’s aroma.

_He’d go to jail for me._

 

֎֎֎

“Sure you’re gonna be okay if we leave? Wait. Correction, will that tiny bun of a boy be okay if we leave?” Jin asks and Namjoon is somewhat offended by how concerned the man seems for Jimin’s well-being.

The fight not to roll his eyes is so strong; _he’s a freaking gentleman. It took Jedi-like powers to not (no matter how badly he wanted to) glance, look, or accidentally on purpose stare at Jimin’s Wonderland._

“Hyung,” Namjoon starts with a sigh. “He, no, we’ll both be fine. I’m a little offended, to be honest.”

“Sorry Joonie, but just want to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret, you know?” Jin pats him on the back.

“I know, I know.”

“Hey Joon, if it doesn’t work between you and hot abs, give him my digits okay?” Jackson says with a loud laugh and a wink, and Namjoon wonders for a brief moment if the man is serious. Then he remembers it’s Jackson, of course he’s serious.

He closes the front door and turns to find Jimin standing in the hall and Namjoon’s breath stalls in his throat. Jimin is breathtaking standing there in _his_ too large sweat pants and being swallowed up by _his_ white tee. The boy reminds Namjoon of the sunset in the desert or a refreshing rain on a hot summer day.

“Hey.” It’s lame, he’s lame and he knows, but while he sees symphonies and music swirling around his head at the sight of Jimin in his clothes, although he’s written sonnets about the boy’s soft smile and pouty lips, right now this one word is the only thing that comes to mind.

“Hey,” Jimin responds quietly, eyes turned down.

“You sure you’re okay?” Namjoon asks, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Jimin makes him nervous and confused, which is dangerous given his already clumsy nature.

“I'm really sorry about this hyung. I hope your friends don’t think you’re some weird sex pervert hiding boys in your bathroom. But Taehyung said it was your birthday and that he wanted to surprise you and asked me to help, and I said yes, because it was you, you know?” The boy stops and looks up.

_Because it was you._

The words are like a net cast out into the sea and Namjoon is trapped, unable to untangle himself, and if truth be known he doesn’t want to be free. _Because of him. Jimin was naked in his bathroom—because of him._

 

֎֎֎

“Then there was spaghetti sauce and it was all over me, and Tae said he’d clean and get me some of your clothes to wear. When he didn’t come back I was sad because I didn’t get to wear your clothes. And this morning Jungkook froze my underwear and so... commando, which is why I was totally naked, apart from you know, Timberlands.” He’s rambling and saying things he doesn’t want to.

Namjoon just stands there staring, looking, and Jimin feels like the man can see all the way to his soul.

“Could you please stop looking at me with those eyes that make me want to tell you all the truths you should never know? You really think my lips are delicious looking? Because I think about your lips too, a lot more than is natural, close to obsessively actually. God, why can’t I stop talking? Please stop looking at me. Please.” Jimin begs. His word vomit has him trying to catch his breath, and he clutches his chest trying to keep his heart from bursting through and running away.

He’s not sure when Namjoon moved, not sure when large, warm hands grasped his chin, not sure when thick full lips engulfed his own. He’s not sure when it all happens, all he knows is that it does, he also knows that Namjoon tastes like coffee and caramel. He knows that Namjoon smells like vanilla and baked goods and happiness. He knows that he wants to kiss Namjoon every day and forever.

There’s a beast in Jimin’s belly, wild and uncontrolled, and it growls and rumbles and pushes into the kiss with the force of a category five hurricane, drawing a groan from Namjoon. The sound is like kerosene being poured on the fire burning in Jimin’s heart, consuming him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Namjoon licks into his mouth and he sucks the wet muscle in further. He wants Namjoon to taste his need, wants him to understand without words the hunger that one look creates in him.

“Jimin,” Namjoon’s voice is broken and hoarse, and it makes Jimin shiver.

Large hands grab his hips on either side, pulling him close, so so so close that there’s no space, not even air can pass between them.

“Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.” Namjoon says his name like it’s the only word he knows or ever wants to say.

Jimin feels like he’s living in an Ed Sheeran song, kissing Namjoon like he wants to be loved because he does. He. Just. Does.

“Hyung,” he groans as he hooks a leg around Namjoon’s calf, hoping that the man will get the picture. He does. Strong hands are pushing him up and he brings the other leg to wrap around Namjoon’s thigh. Namjoon continues to push him until both legs are around the blonde’s hips and hooked at the ankles.

“Jimin, you make me crazy, just so stupid crazy.” Namjoon’s words have him buzzing like a live wire sparking with wild, untamed electrical current. “Fuck we need to stop. Shit. I don’t want to, I can’t begin to explain how badly I don’t want to stop.”

“Then why are we?” Disappointment rolls over him like a wave, and he’d pout but he’s an adult goddamnit.

“Because I like you, and I want to get to know you. You’re Tae’s friend and he’s my brother. I need to make sure he’s cool too, you know? So before we do anything we may regret later, we need to stop.”

It all makes sense, even if he doesn’t want it to. Namjoon is right, they need to stop. Hostile takeover was initially about sex and fulfilling his stupid fantasies regarding the tall man that broke through his sleepy hazy just by entering a classroom what seems like a hundred years ago. But know it’s about belonging, loving, being part of Namjoon’s world permanently.

He unhooks his legs.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks in a panic, head forward, eyes holding his.

“You’re right, we should stop,” Jimin tries to move his body down only to have Namjoon hold him in place. “Hyung, I should get down.”

“Mmm, no. I said we should stop, this, the moving too fast. Or at least it’s what I meant to say. I’m not ready to let go.”

He’s smiling and it’s wide, really wide. He drops his head in the crook of Namjoon’s neck.

“I don’t want to let go either,” he says into the man’s soft, warm skin.

“Then stay. We can snuggle in my bed and watch cheesy dramas and talk till we fall asleep.” It sounds like the best plan Jimin has ever heard, ever.

He nods his agreement into Namjoon’s neck and giggles as the man carries him down the hall and into the room.

 

֎֎֎

“Hyung, when is your birthday?” Jimin asks him sleepily.

“Next month.”

“Mmm, I’ll make you seaweed soup then, okay?” Jimin yawns and his warm breath wisps against Namjoon’s skin.

Namjoon smiles as Jimin falls into slumber curled into his side.

Jimin fits perfectly into his side a toned leg draped across his own. They’ve watched more dramas than any two males ever should and have asked and answered what feels like a million questions (yet he still has so many more). He likes Jimin a lot, more than he thought he did. The boy’s like the sunrise: brilliant, shining, and warm. He’s thankful to Jungkook for freezing Jimin’s underwear and to Taehyung for stealing his clothes, because now Jimin is tucked into his bed, wearing his clothes, breathing evenly on his chest. Oh, there will be revenge, but he’s still very, very thankful indeed.

 

-끝- (The End)

 

Come talk to me [here](lulublu1014.tumblr.com). I'm lonely and need friends. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished!! We did it! Thank you all for reading and for those of you that commented you will never understand how happy it made me. 
> 
> Happy Reading  
> Lulu

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request fill/valentines story. I am dropping in a preview today the full story will be uploaded on Valentine's Day. Let me know what you think so far in the comments, if you're not a commenter please kudos to let me know you're enjoying it so far. Also, I recently started a Tumblr which I am turning into a request page. So, if you have a story you'd like to me to try my hand at please drop it here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lulublu1014. You can also, follow me on twitter @lsgrlr.


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